Bootstrap's Revenge
by esteed
Summary: Bootstrap is freed from his watery tomb, and he know who to blame-Jack! Newly updated!
1. Default Chapter

Bootstrap Bill sat glumly on the cannon to which he was attached. Once again bemoaning his fate, Bill htought of the vents which had led him here.  
  
**Flash back **  
  
Splash! Jack Sparrow, former captain of the Black Pearl had been forced to walk the plank. Everyone cheered. Everyone but Bill. He and Jack had been good friends ever since Jack's first voyage, when Bill had taken him under his wing.  
Stepping forward, Bill raised his voice so everyone could hear him. "T'weren't right."  
  
Barbossa froze, mid-bite of his favorite food-apples. "What did you say, you mangy cur," Barbossa growled.  
  
"T'weren't right. Jack was our Captain. He shared wif us, and what'd we do t'repay him? Spit in his eye!"  
  
Barbossa motioned to two pirates to take Bill down to the brig. "Hopefully a few days will cool you off, Bootstrap."  
  
The next day, they had discovered the Aztec gold. Barbossa had been in such good spirits that, after bringing the heavy chest onboard, he had allowed Bootstrap to take a piece of the treasure.  
  
"Until yesterday, you'd been a good sailor, so I'll give you a piece o' the treasure."  
  
"If I keep me mouf shut?"  
  
Barbossa grinned. "You always was the smart one, Bootstrap."  
  
"Send it to me kid. I don't want it. Send it to him, so's he'll 'member his ole man."  
  
"You've a son?" Barbossa was clearly stunned.  
  
"I don't rightly know," Bill admitted. "Me wife threw me out right afore t'was born. She won't answer any letters I send,but I want me kid to remember me."  
  
Barbossa smiled, touched by Bootstrap's tale. "Course you know what this means. I can't have you spreadin' your feelings to the rest o' the crew."  
  
Bill nodded, resigned to his fate.  
  
It wasn't until he'd been underwater for a few minutes that he'd realized he wasn't dying.  
  
**End Flashback**  
  
Bill sighed. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that the gold had something to do with it. He'd realized the full extent of the curse when a shaft of moonlight descended to his position, turning his hand into a decaying skeleton.  
  
Bootstrap sighed once again and stretched his legs. Suddenly he felt the leather of his boostraps give way. Bill triumphed. He was free, and he knew who he had to blame for this curse. Jack Sparrow.  
  
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Bootstrap sat on a piece of coral, disgusted with himself. He'd once been one of the most able-bodied pirates on the seven seas, but put him on a cannon for ten years, and he couldn't even walk for three days. Of course, he was dying of hunger. . . Bill shook his head. "Mind over matter mate," he muttered to himself.  
Rising from his perch, Bill took a deep breath, steadying himself for another long hike. Bill's eyes widened. He'd inhaled sea water! Bill pushed off the bottom, scrambling for fresh air.  
As he rose, his oxygen supply began to run out. His lungs were on fire, he began seeing spots in front of his eyes. And then, finally, just in time, Bill reached the surface. He was in the middle of a very vast ocean  
Bill swam for two days, until his strength finally gave out, and then began floating. Once in a while, he managed to catch a fish, and would eat it raw, just thankful that he had that much. Bootstrap began hallucinating, and his tongue began to swell. He floated in and out of darkness. Nearly a week had passed when a ship happened past.  
  
The cry rang out. "Man overboard!!" Bill stirred out of his delirium long enough to tie the lowered rope around his waist. He reached the deck, took a sip of the offered water---then---darkness. 


	2. The Adventure Continues

He awoke on a spare bunk, the commanding officer of the ship standing before him.  
  
"And you would be," the officer asked, concern in his voice.  
  
Bill struggled to sit up, trying to think of a good lie. "Me name's Bill Turner. Me ship was attacked by pirates. I'm the only survivor."  
  
"Commodore Norrington," the man introduced himself with a handshake and a cool smile. "Do you know who attacked your ship?"  
  
Bill smiled inwardly. "Of course, sir. We was attacked by Jack Sparrow."  
  
Norrington wasn't shocked. "I've had a few run-ins with the man before. Let me assure you, I will do all I can to catch that scoundrel."  
  
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Captain Jack was blissfully unaware of the impeding danger. He was curled up on a warm, sandy beach with a sumptuous red-head. As he moved to kiss her, cold water slammed into him, jolting him awake.  
  
"Bloddly hell! I was havin' the best dream of me life!"  
  
Gibbs grinned. 'We've got visitors. He stepped aside to reveal a young couple, obviously very happy and very much in love with one another.  
  
"Elizabeth, what're you doing here, luv? I've moved on, found a new girl. It's all over, saavy?" Elizabeth merely rolled her eyes.  
  
"Actually," Will interrupted, "We're on our honeymoon."  
  
A mischevious glint came into Jack's eyes. Elizabeth gently slapped him. "Stop that," she ordered.  
  
"You'd better get your ship out of here," Will advised. "Commodore Norrington is supposed to be passing through here in a few days."  
  
Jack sighed. "Guess I'll have to go back t'me island."  
  
"That's probably a very good idea," Will informed him. "You've escaped Norrington three times, but twice you've had my help."  
  
Jack was offended. "If I'd wanted to, I could've escaped all on me onesie, saavy?"  
  
Elizabeth laughed. "We'd better be getting back to our ship. We had enough trouble convincing the crew to come here. We certainly wouldn't want to be stranded onboard."  
  
"No, we certainly couldn't have that," Jack didn't sound so certain. He watched sorrowfully was Will guided Elizabeth safely back to their ship. "All right, you mangy dogs, it's time to move on."  
  
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Commodore Norrington looked closely at Bootstrap.  
  
"What is it," Bill questioned nervously, wondering if he had food on his cheek.  
  
"You bear a striking resemblance to a young man I know. William Turner. You have the same name-could he be your son?"  
  
Instantly Bootstrap knew that this was the child he had conceived more than fifteen years ago. "It is entirely possible," he answered Norrington.  
  
"You mean you don't even know your child's name," Norrington questioned in disgust.  
  
Bill sighed sadly. "I was a merchant wif the East India Company. Me wife had our baby whilst I was away," Bill quickly invented a tale. "By the time I got back, she'd died of childbirf fever, and the babe was gone. No one'd tell me where."  
  
The Commodore seemed satisfied. "Well I certainly am glad to see that young Will's love of piracy hasn't come from you.'  
  
Bootstrap's eyes widened. "Pirates," he asked nervously.  
  
"Aye. He has become best friends with a certain Jack Sparrow.  
  
Bill's mouth tightened. His own son, his own flesh and blood, the one who he had hoped would help him on his quest--a traitor. His mouth settled in a straight line. If his son was going to betray him, then he would have to pay the price.  
  
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"You are the most beautiful woman in the world," Will murmured to his new wife, inside their cabin.  
  
"And you, Mr. Turner, are fairly prejudiced," Elizabeth replied, holding back a smile.  
  
"I seriously doubt that," a commanding voice interrupted them. They looked up to see the stern face of Commander Norrington.  
  
Will jumped to his feet. "Would you care to sit down, sir?" He politely offered Norrington his seat.  
  
The Commodore accepted, using this chance to scour Elizabeth's face for any sign of worry. No such luck. Her face was as carefree as a small child's. Clearing his throat, Norrington filled the awkward silence. "I believe we have someone on board who you'd be very delighted to meet, Mr. Turner."  
  
"Might I ask who," Will inquired uneasily.  
  
Norrington smiled and crossed the small cabin, opening the door to reveal a fairly muscular older gentleman, whose wild hair had been tamed into a ponytail and whose long beard was neatly brushed.  
  
"Father," Will questioned, dumbfounded.  
  
"There's me boy," Bootstrap answered back, hugging Will fiercly. He'd give the boy a chance to redeem himself. It wasn't his fault he didn't know what a scoundrel Jack Sparrow was.  
  
"Your father's ship was attacked by your friend Mr. Sparrow a week ago," Norrington smugly informed the couple. "Mr. Turner was the only survivor."  
  
"But that's not possible," Elizabeth vehemently defended Jack. "Jack would never kill anyone."  
  
"He is a pirate," Norrington calmly pointed out. "I'll be leaving your father with you, Mr. Turner. I'm on a pirate hunt." Norrington left the small group stunned.  
  
"Father, why did you tell Commodore Norrington that Jack attacked your ship," Will demanded.  
  
Bootstrap shrugged. "I had to tell him something."  
  
"But why Jack," Elizabeth entreatied. "I thought you were the best of friends."  
  
Bill's face clouded over. "Twas a long time ago. Things have changed."  
  
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Bill sat, half-asleep in the bunk his son had given him. Will and Elizabeth had told him of the whole adventure, and the lifting of the curse. Now Bootstrap realized that his son and daughter-in-law would always side with Jack. He had to figure out a way to punish them all. They would be returning to Port Royal in a week--perhaps he'd be able to meet with some of 


	3. Visiting Old Friends

Bill smiled to himself. He had told Will that he wanted a glance at the miserable miscreants what had turned him loose in Poseidon's Playland. Bootstrap wondered how naïve his son really was. Will had told this to his wife, Elizabeth, who, in turn, had asked her father to allow Bootstrap into the prison. Bootstrap still wasn't sure if the Governor believed his merchant story.  
  
"Here ye go," the soldier informed Bill. "These is the miserable curs what attacked your ship."  
  
Bill nodded his thanks, chuckling at the surprise in Ragetti and Pintel's faces.  
  
"Bootstrap," Ragetti whispered in obvious disbelief. "But how? You was killed."  
  
Bill shook his head. "You should know better, Ragetti. "Member the curse? T'was that what kept me from dying. Now, I need your help."  
  
"'Course. Anythin for an ole shipmate," Pintel reassured him. "But we can't do nothing locked up like this."  
"What about Barbossa? He's captain. 'Tis his duty to take care of his crew."  
  
Pintel's eyes widened. "You mean you didn't hear?"  
  
"Hear what," Bootstrap demanded.  
  
"Barbossa. He died. Jack Sparrow killed him."  
  
Bill clasped his head in his hands. His plan. It was all going to ruin before he'd even had one chance to get even with Sparrow. His eyes lit up. "D'you s'pose that if the gold rendered us immortal, it could bring Barbossa back from the dead," Bill questioned aloud.  
  
Pintel smiled. "Only one way t'find out. Acourse, we'd help, but, like I said before," his voice drifted off.  
  
"Bill smiled. "Don't worry. Me son tole me how he 'rescued Sparrow. I reckon I can get you out of these cells." 


	4. Barbossa's Back

Bill took a bench that was sitting handily nearby and pushed it in between the bars of the cell, pushing downward, and levering the door out of its hinges. He quickly disentangled the bench. "Go," he urged Ragetti and Pintel. "Meet me by the docks at sunset. I've got to make this look good. He hit himself over the head with the bench, and crumpled to the floor.  
  
The moment Ragetti and Pintel had disappeared from sight, a group of redcoats ran downstairs.  
  
"The prisoners! They've escaped," one shouted.  
  
"You, and you," one redcoat took charge pointing. "Go that way, search. They can't have gone far. And you, help me wif this fine gentleman. Wouldn't do to have the govenor's son-in-law's father lying on the floor of the dungeon." Bootstrap began to stir. "Take it easy sir. Just tell us what happened."  
  
"I was talkin' to 'em. Wanted to know why they'd attacked me ship."  
  
"Easy, sir, take a sip of water. Don't try to move."  
  
Bill patiently sipped the water. "Them rogues laughed in me face, spit on me boot, and said 'twas all in a day's work for them, and they was sorry they hadn't killed me too. I was angry, and I said some things maybe I shouldn't, and they both leaped at the door, and knocked it out. Then they grabbed that bench there, and hit me. That's the last thing I remember."  
  
Will came running down the stairs. "Father, are you all right?"  
  
Bill smiled. They were all falling for it.  
  
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Elizabeth set a bowl of stew down in front of Bill. "it must have been a terrifying experience," she remarked, recalling her kidnapping by the same two men.  
  
"You seem to forget that my father lived with those two for years," Will smiled.  
  
"Oh, aye," Bill dug into the stew. "But I'd get attacked every day to get food this good."  
Elizabeth blushed slightly and looked down. "it is a sight better than my first attempts at cooking," she admitted.  
  
Will grimaced. "She couldn't even boil water," he teased.  
  
"William Turner, if you're not careful, you'll be eating boiled eggs for the next week," Elizabeth responded, holding his stew bowl out of reach.  
  
Will's arm snaked around her waist, and he pulled Elizabeth close, kissing her deeply.  
  
Elizabeth set the stew down in front of her husband. "You certainly can be persuasive, Mr. Turner," she answered, once her breath had returned.  
  
Bill smiled, in spite of himself. He couldn't say he was disappointed in his son's choice of a wife; Elizabeth was intelligent, beautiful, a good cook..she was just like Will's mother. A little prettier, a bit more refined, perhaps- Bill's mind floated back to the first time he had realized he was in love with her.  
  
The baker's daughter carried a basket of bread to Mistress Rosewood. The poor woman was bed ridden, and relied on the charity of the townspeople to stay alive. Young Bill Turner crept up behind Lissie and pulled a braid with one hand while stealing a roll with the other. Lissie Young was furious. Her blue eyes flashed angrily, her cheeks colored crimson. "You give that back Bill Turner! 'Tis for Mistress Rosewood!" Bill's eyes clearly showed what he thought of that. "Aw, c'mon Lissie," he protested. "'Tis my sixteenth birthday. I'm a man, now!" Lissie glanced at Bill's body. "You have a lot more growing to do before you'll be considered a man, William Turner," she answered saucily.  
  
"Bill," Elizabeth's questioning voice drew him back to the present. He looked at her questioningly. "Are you all right," she questioned. Bill felt his cheeks; they were wet with tears. "I'm fine," he answered. "I'll just be going to bed, now." "Of course," Elizabeth gently patted his arm. She pointed to a door. "You'll find a bed in there."  
  
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Bill closed the door and leaned back against it. Perhaps he wouldn't kill his son and daughter-in-law. They seemed like a decent sort. "Don't be silly," another part of his mind argued. "They're friends with Jack Sparrow. They're traitors." "No," Bill whimpered. "Maybe I could show them," he whispered. "If they found out how truly evil Sparrow is, they'd turn their backs on him." The rational part of his mind reminded him that it wasn't likely. Bill sighed. Fine. He'd put his plan into motion.  
  
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Ragetti and Pintel crept toward the docks. Bill had clearly told them to meet him here. No excuses. A dark shape moved in the darkness.  
"That you," Pintel called out.  
Barbossa stepped out of the shadows. "Were you expectin someone else," he questioned, grinning evilly. 


	5. Jack is Thrown in the Mix

Bill grumbled as he walked down to the docks. He'd had to wait until Elizabeth and Will were asleep before he could sneak out. Now he was at least an hour late for his meeting with Ragetti and Pintel. He could only hope they hadn't already left.  
As the docks came into view, Bill cursed under his breath. The piers were empty. Suddenly, he felt the flat edge of a blade against his throat. Instinctively, Bill reached for his sword.  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I was you," a hard voice growled. Bill's hands were jerked behind him and tied tightly. He was then twirled around to face his captor. "Well, well," Barbossa smirked. "If it ain't ole Bill. I couldn't believe me ears when them two idiots tole me you was back. But I guess they was right."  
  
Bill struggled against his bonds, but Barbossa stilled him by holding his sword to Bill's throat.  
  
"What should we do with you," Barbossa questioned menacingly.  
  
"Where're Ragetti and Pintel," Bill demanded.  
  
"Where they're s'posed to be. Back on me ship."  
  
"The Pearl," Bill questioned.  
  
Barbossa slapped him. "Your son gave it back to Jack Sparrow," he sneered.  
  
Bill looked up eagerly. Here was his chance. "How'd you like to get her back?"  
  
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Will was awakened the next morning by the smell of freshly fried bacon. Yawning, he rolled over in bed. Elizabeth was still sleeping peacefully beside him. Will smiled down at her, lightly brushing a curl back from her face. Stretching, he got up; he needed to finish an order.  
  
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"Will, me boy," Bootstrap handed his son a plate of eggs and bacon as he tried to sneak out the door. "Ye can't go off t'work without somethin' in your belly."  
  
Will sighed. "I must get this order done first, Father. I have no time to eat."  
  
"Nonsense." Bill gently led him to the table. "You eat all of this, then ye can finish your work."  
  
Will sighed and picked up his fork. It would be easier to just go along with his father.  
  
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Elizabeth stretched and rolled over in the bed. Inhaling deeply, she sat up; eager to get dressed and eat the delicious food she was smelling.  
  
A few minutes later, Elizabeth walked into the kitchen, dressed simply, happy to see a plate all ready for her. Seeing her father-in-law, she crept up behind him and pecked him on the cheek.  
  
"Thank you."  
Bill turned around. "If I fix lunch, will I get another kiss?"  
  
Elizabeth playfully hit his shoulder. "I'm married to your son!"  
  
He shrugged. "Didn't say ye had bad taste. Ye just picked the wrong Turner." He winked.  
  
Elizabeth smiled and found herself pondering if this was what Will would have turned out like had his life been but a little different. She finished up her breakfast and announced that she would be taking a picnic lunch to the smithy and forcing Will to take a break.  
  
Bill grinned. "Why do I get the feeling that the only reason me son doesn't work himself half to death is that you keep him from doing so?"  
  
Elizabeth laughed as she darted around, packing bread, meat, cheese and fruit into a basket. "Perhaps because it's true." She lightly pecked him again. "I'll be back in a little while."  
  
Bill watched her go, emotions raging. He liked Elizabeth. Perhaps she wasn't as keen on pirates as his son was..  
  
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"Jack, you can't be serious!"  
  
"Captain," Jack reminded Anamaria. "And of course I'm serious. What harm could there be in going to see an old friend, love?" He smiled charmingly.  
  
"No you don't." Anamaria informed him. "That smile may work on every other wench from here to Tortuga but it won't work on me. We're not moving from this island, especially not to go to Port Royal, of all places!" 


	6. Jack Goes Straight

Norrington sat musing in his office. He did not doubt that William Turner was the father of William Turner. Any fool could see the physical similiarities; the more adept observer could discern certain behavioral and mannerial parallels. However, something didn't add up in William Sr.'s story.

James Norrington knew Jack Sparrow, and as much as it pained him to admit it, the pirate had a sense of honor. From what he had heard Jack had fought off a half-dead pirate to save the lives of Elizabeth and Turner.

Not that Jack Sparrow wasn't crazy. Well, he was either crazy or acting so. "Crazy like a fox," Norrington decided. Sparrow wouldn't be likely to attack a merchant ship and kill everyone. The more likely course of action would have been to let everyone live, as long as they cooperated. He made a mental note to himself to visit the Turners before the week was out. He had some questions. 

Elizabeth peeked into the smithy. She grinned mischeviously. Mr. Brown was in his normal seat in the corner, drunk out of his mind, and Will was working at the forge, his back to the door. Elizabeth carefully closed the door behind her and set the basket out of sight. Creeping behind her husband, she reached for one of his many swords, her wedding ring clinking against the handle. She quickly ducked out of sight. Will turned around, confusion on his face. He glanced over at Mr. Brown, then turned back to the forge. Elizabeth slinked up to her husband, pressing the tip of the sword lightly into Will's back. He stiffened, then tightening his grip on the sword he was working on, he whirled around, the red hot tip clashing against Elizabeth's sword, making sparks.

Will's eyes widened. He nearly dropped the sword. "I could have killed you." He informed Elizabeth, lowering the sword.

Elizabeth smiled, swiftly bringing the blade up to Will's neck. "That's why you need to teach me to fight."

"Is that the only reason why you came to see me," Will questioned, eyebrows raised hopefully.

"No," Elizabeth answered him, lowering the sword a bit.

Will took this chance to snake his sword around Elizabeth's, jerking it out of her grip. He then threw his sword directly over Elizabeth's shoulder into the door, locking it shut.

Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, grinning, "Well, that is highly convenient," she teased. "But what happens if a customer should come looking for you?"

"They can wait," Will informed her.

"I like how you think, Mr. Turner," she smiled, stretching upwards to steal a kiss. 

Captain Jack Sparrow winced as the last of his ornaments were none too gently taken out of his hair. "D'you think ye could've ripped them out a little harder," he saracastically questioned his first mate.

"Unlikely," Anamaria shrugged. "Did you want them out or not? I could have just cut your hair," she reminded him.

Jack blanched. "Never mind, never mind," he moaned.

"Now all that's left is for you to take off your kohl," Anamaria handed him a bar of soap, and pointed to the wash basin. "Now," she ordered, before Jack could utter a syllable of protest. "If you're stupid enough to want to go to Port Royal, then a disguise is needed."

Jack muttered something about mutiny, then commenced washing before Anamaria would do something he'd regret.

A carefully groomed Jack Sparrow leaned out of one of Port Royal's many dark alleyways, looking left, then right, then cautiously making his way down the dirt road, keeping a weather eye out for a certain uptight British officer-lovely woman in a bodice that was just a tad too tight.

"Oompf," Jack moaned as he hit the ground, ready to hurl a string of curses at the bloody fool who had sent him sprawling. The words died in his throat as he raised his eyes.

"So terribly sorry, sir," Norrington smiled politely, as he offered Jack a hand up.

"Not at all," Jack quickly replied, before heading on his way.

Norrington watched him go, amused at his antics. "As if I wouldn't know it was him," he thought to himself. "After all, the swagger itself was enough to give him away."


End file.
